


We gon' have a juke jam

by signore_whorechata (The_Wayward_Orphans_101)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, PWP, Porn With Plot, if you can call it plot lol, in the second chapter anyways, virgin killer sweater
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26593243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wayward_Orphans_101/pseuds/signore_whorechata
Summary: America wears the virgin killer sweater. England, while not amused at being interrupted from his stupidly stressful job, is very much interested in seeing all the ways he can make his precious 'Meri sing.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia), England/America (Hetalia)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	We gon' have a juke jam

**Author's Note:**

> I finally posted the first part lol. Inspired by the lack of ukus content! I still prefer usuk, but I gotta say writing this fic has made me appreciate bottom America :3
> 
> Lol anyways, I hope you enjoy!

_‘I can’t believe I’m really doing this,’_ America thought as he tugged the sweater lower in order to cover his white briefs. It wasn’t as if he was totally against the idea, his half hard cock was a dead giveaway. It was more of the fact that he couldn’t believe he was doing this without England asking him to. Usually, the king of perverts requested this kind of thing which made it easier for America to shift the blame onto him if he ever got too embarrassed. England never minded, he always got what he wanted in the end anyway.

He gave one last look at the body length mirror they had in their shared room, a flash of heat stirring in his groin at the memory of last night, which he quickly shut down, and made sure the form fitting baby blue sweater was covering everything it could before stepping out of the room. He made his way towards England’s office, not bothering to knock before barging in.

“Not now Meri, I’m busy,” England muttered, not even bothering to look up from his desk. He was frantically jotting down notes to the side as he scrolled through a recent file sent over from parliament. “God those fucking twats throw a fit about being in the EU and leave, only for them to not know how to do a fucking thing,” he muttered darkly as he aggressively jotted another point down.

America pouted, letting the door close behind him before walking towards his partner. He ignored the irritated sigh coming from England, choosing instead to stand next to him. “I’m lonely,” he said, trying to get England to look at him.

“Meri, believe me poppet, I’d love to drop this shite and do _anything_ with you, but these idiots can’t be left on their own without ruining everything,” he nearly growled. He huffed, a humorless smile on his face, “I have to admit, David picked a great time to jump ship.”

“But Artie _, I’m sure you’ll like what I wanna show you **way** more than that crap_,” America whispered into England’s ear as he placed his hands on his shoulders. He tried to nip the shell of his ear, a move in his experience that always worked, but England shook him off.

“Meri I’m serious,” England warned, not looking at him at all. America frowned. He wasn’t used to being brushed off so easily. A lot of the time England looked for any excuse to push off dealing with parliament, especially with the growing gaps between their visits. He tried to think of another way to grab his attention, and internally cheered as he remembered one of his golden rules: When in doubt, pull a Fine! (He admitted it probably sounded dumber than in his head, but she _is_ iconic so whatever.)

He smirked, gently pushing some things off England’s desk, which he was sure he’d get punished for later (and that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?), and ignored England’s indignant cries as he hopped onto the sturdy wooden desk. He had his legs crossed, and his hands placed in his lap, giving England his best sultry look.

“America what the _hell_ -,” England shouted, the way his voice darkened on the curse shot a tendril of thrill up Alfred’s spine. His heart started to race at the way England’s piercing green eyes glared at him, his thick brows furrowed into a severe scowl that dropped the moment he took in his outfit.

_‘Gotcha.’_ He thought as he leaned back on the desk, uncrossing his legs slightly so the sweater rode up his muscular thighs, giving England a peek of the tight white briefs that left no room for imagination. He bit his bottom lip for added affect, and felt his briefs get more uncomfortably tight at the way England’s throat swallowed, and his eyes stayed on his lips.

“What’s this?” England asked, keeping his hands in his lap. He tried to keep the interest out of his voice, but America knew him better. The growing heat on his cheeks was a dead giveaway, but his voice also took on a breathy tone. Something America always internally cheered at because he knew he was moments away from a good pounding. Normally he’d prefer topping, but there were days were he just desperately wanted to feel England in him, mouthing filthy things in his ear as he drilled into him and made him see stars.

Hence, the virgin killer sweater. (And if it works like he’s sure it’s going to- he’s going to be placing an order for a body harness and that fila crop top sweater that’s been trending-)

“Oh this?” He playfully asked, one hand going on his chest and trailing down, “I just saw it online and thought I’d buy it. Whatcha think?” he said before hopping off the desk and walked towards the middle of the room. He gave a little twirl, feeling the heat of England’s gaze on his back. He gave another internal cheer when he heard England draw a sharp breath. He knew England had a thing about seeing him with his back exposed, especially when he wore something that had enough cloth to tie him up. He turned to face him, making sure England’s gaze didn’t stray from him. 

England just stared at him, his eyes roaming up and down America’s figure (and didn’t that just do something for the throbbing heat in his groin?). He stayed still, not doing more than taking his body in, but America knew that soon, _soon_ , those elegant hands would be on his body, holding him down, spreading him open, god- _anything_ , as so long as he was touching him. His patience was rewarded when England smirked, his green eyes taking a devilish glint in them. He closed his laptop and put it away before offering an outstretched hand to America, who gladly took it and preened when England stood and spun him around again.

“I think,” England started, letting go of America’s hand in favor of settling his hands around his waist, crowding him back against the desk and leaning in so their lips brushed against each other, “that you’re,” he bit America’s lower lip, causing him to gasp, “a _complete_ ,” his grip on America’s waist tightened and he pushed him to sit on top of the desk, one hand slipping underneath the sweater and settled over his clothed dick, another moan drawn out of America’s mouth, “ _menace.”_

“Fuck- Arthur…” America moaned before being muffled by England slipping his tongue in. He let England dominate the kiss, happily following his lead. He bucked in England’s hold the moment England gave a light squeeze to his dick before slipping his briefs down, grasping the fully hard cock in his smooth palm.

“Hm?” England hummed as he started to slowly pump America’s dick, his thumb swiping across the head causing America to keen, “Go on, what is it darling?” he whispered, moving the hand he had on his hip up his chest, slipping it under the sweater so he could tease one of America’s nipples. 

“Ngh- Don’t tease…asshole,” he whined as England’s hand on his chest started to pinch and flick his nipple, while the other on his cock spread his leaking precum around and started to pump faster.

“Oh, _I’m_ the tease?” England asked, his mouth flush to America’s ear as he nipped the shell of it before whispering, “I’ll show you a tease.”

America’s heart pounded and lightning shot through his body as England shoved him down on the desk. His glasses were knocked askew as his head hit the sturdy wood, and he yelped when he felt England’s hands grip his legs and tug his briefs off completely, throwing it somewhere across the room. He didn’t have a moment to recover before England threw his legs over his shoulders. Blood pounded in his ears; he didn’t know what was hotter. The show of England’s hidden strength, or the puffs of hot breath ghosting over his inner thighs and brushing against his aching cock. He moaned, his head rolling back when he felt England’s lips press against his thigh, his toes curling when he felt his teeth nip at his skin. It continued like that, the room quiet except for his occasional moans, with England pressing light kisses before biting down and sucking, that then got soothed over by his wicked tongue. America wanted to shout, wanted to beg for England to stop paying so much attention to his thighs already and move _up_ , move to his dick, or ass, or anything!

England must’ve noticed how impatient he was getting because he felt the burning heat of his amused huff, sending more shivers up his spine. He stared at America, dark green clashing with ocean blue, and America felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment, getting lost in those eyes. America got so lost in his imagination, thinking about all the things England could do to him, that he missed when England opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a bottle of lube, only noticing when he heard the soft click of the top being opened. His cheeks burned brighter when he saw him warm the clear lube around his fingers.

“You fucking perv…,” America muttered, not taking his off away from England’s slender fingers.

England smirked, his slicked fingers teasing the cleft of America’s ass, drawing out a sharp gasp from the younger nation, “Never said I wasn’t, love,” he said, before circling America’s fluttering hole. He pressed a kiss on his shaft before licking it, slowly pressing the tip of one finger in. America shuttered, face pinching at the uncomfortable pressure. England pressed apologetic kisses to his groin as he slowly pushed it further in, taking one of his balls into his mouth and sucking, making America buck up, the best he could with half his body in the air anyway. England switched from sucking at his sac to lapping at the base of his dick, slowly working his second finger in and crooking them inside searching for-

America’s groan was all he needed to hear. Slowly he kept thrusting them in, making sure to hit his prostate each time, and he took the tip of America’s dick in his mouth, swallowing him down the best he could, nearly getting to the base.

“A-Arthur…!” America keened, his hands digging into the desk. His thighs were shaking, he was fighting the urge to close his legs around England’s head and the need to buck up into his mouth. His head was getting clouded, his body getting assaulted from so many different angles he didn’t know where to focus. His fingers dug into the desk as England began to bob his head up and down his cock, and he couldn’t stop the half sob that slipped when England moaned around his dick right as he started to finger his prostate.

They kept at that for a while, America shaking, half choked sobbed and moans tumbling out of his lips. His toes kept curling from the sparks of pleasure thrumming through his body, head thrashing whenever England sped his fingers up and pressed faster, demanding touches, against his bundle of nerves. His hands curled up in England’s blond hair, pushing his mouth back down whenever he did a particularly wonderful hum around his dick.

“Fuck! A-Arthur!” He cried out. His body tensed as burning white ripped through his body. He had England’s head shoved snug against his crotch, trembling as his orgasm blinded him.

England gagged around his cock, but he did his best to swallow all his cum down, slowly pulling off once the last few spurts of cum came out of America. He pulled his fingers out before gently laying his lower body back down, smirking when he saw how America’s legs kept twitching lightly.

“Alfred, _look at me._ ”

Even through the hazy bliss of his orgasm, America’s mind snapped to attention at his partners tone. His blue eyes stared at England’s green ones, and the burning in his cheeks intensified as he watched him lick his slicked-up fingers and lick any of the remaining cum on the corner of his lips. Even though he had just cummed, he felt a stirring heat in his groin again and felt the blood starting to pool. A low whine spilled out of his bruised lips as he felt England’s other hand start to slide up his sweater and run lightly over his chest.

“We’re not done yet, love.”


End file.
